When I was a little girl, I had these hand-me-down shoes that I loved. I wore them everywhere. Anywhere, really. I don't think I cared whether they were appropriate for where I was going. If those were the shoes I wanted to wear, then those were the shoes I was wearing. And when they became too small, I still didn't want to let them go. I would squeeze my feet into them and somehow convince myself that they still fit. I imagine an adult looking at me and thinking, Child, these shoes are clearly too small. Please take them off. But I loved them. And I think about those shoes sometimes when I hear us talk about things like seasons, letting go, releasing, creating room, moving on. Usually, when we talk about letting go, there is something wrong with the thing we're letting go of. It has become toxic. It doesn't serve us anymore. It is holding us back. We have outgrown it. We need to make room for something better. And yes, sometimes that is exactly what letting go looks li...
In Kenya, few social realities are as visible — and as normalized — as single motherhood. Walk into any Kenyan town , village , or estate and you will hear it: “ single mother .” It rolls off tongues with ease, as if it were the most natural title in the world. It carries weight, stigma, sometimes pity, sometimes pride. We hear phrases like “I was raised by a single mother” or “She’s doing it all on her own” so often that they hardly spark a second thought. But pause for a moment: why does the phrase exist in the first place? Why is there no equal and opposite phrase — “ absentee father ” — that carries the same recognition, the same punch, the same weight in society? This question matters because it reveals not just our family structures , but also our values as a people . The Normalization of “Single Mother” In Kenya, the term single mother has become so normalized that it is almost part of our cultural vocabulary . It is said casually, often with ...